


Worst Case Scenario

by YdrittE



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Human Experimentation, Poison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 07:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YdrittE/pseuds/YdrittE
Summary: The legacy of Gast Faremis was death inside a vial.





	Worst Case Scenario

The legacy of Gast Faremis was death inside a vial.

 

Hojo finds it while going through the recordings and reports stored away in the cozy little house in Icicle Inn while it still smells of chemicals and gunpowder. The note accompanying it is addressed to him directly (Gast knew they would find him here?) and explains the contents of the little bottle. Who they were created by, and why it’s impossible to recreate them, and that that means that they have only one chance to use it. But it’s alright, because it will only be necessary once.

 _Find someone to do it,_ he says, _find someone and give them the vial, and never let that damn experiment of yours out of their sights. Tell them to be ready._

 

It’s Hojo who carries it for the first few years, watching over his son like a hawk and waiting for one or all of the symptoms Gast described, the ones that will herald the start of the worst case scenario. Sephiroth grows, and the symptoms never come, and all too soon Hojo has to give up the vial and pass it on to someone else, because outside of the lab his control over Sephiroth dwindles enough to pose a risk should the worst case scenario occur. They will need a Soldier to carry the vial.

The exact criteria are unknown. Why pick this one, and not that? Loyalty to ShinRa is the top criteria, they say. Nobody knows if it’s true. Strength, perhaps, to overpower him. But then again, who can overpower their strongest Soldier?

 

It’s Angeal they turn to. Loyal, and strong, and willing to make sacrifices. Not as selfish or rash as Genesis. A good Soldier who will do as he’s told. They put the little vial made of bulletproof glass, with its top thinnening into a sharp needle, into his hand, and tell him what to do with it should the worst case scenario come to pass. Angeal stares at the swirling liquid inside the vial, clear as water but looking strangely alive, and wonders what it is. He doesn’t ask, and they don’t tell him.

For five years in Wutai Angeal carries the vial, hidden away in a secret pocket, watching Sephiroth’s every move and praying the worst case scenario won’t occur. He preaches loyalty and honour and dreams, and while others nod and smile and take the words to heart he can see Sephiroth staring off into space absentmindedly, not even listening to anything being said. He feels cold. It’s not worst case, but it’s one of the signs. One of the first, and probably not the last.

He leaves the vial behind when following Genesis into rebellion, sick of the weight of it in his pocket and on his mind. Sephiroth didn’t join them even after years of companionship, so even though the first signs are there the worst case scenario is miles and miles away, too far to see clearly, too far to cause worry. Whoever takes up the burden won’t find it very heavy. Just a formality, a last failsave for ShinRa to keep in place so they don’t lose their most valuable asset.

When Genesis hears of the vial he curses from between grit teeth, half of his anger directed at the company for doing this to Sephiroth, and the other at Angeal for never telling him. All this time together, and his best friend was carrying the means to destroy his other friend. That was never how the poem went.

 

It’s Zack who they end up passing it on to, for lack of better options or stronger Soldiers. When he refuses and yells at them for trying to make him kill his friend they soothe him, explain how it works and what it will do, and stress time and time again that it’s only for the worst case scenario, only if all else fails, only if he does the unthinkable. Never before that, and it’s so unlikely. Zack will never need to do it, they promise, they just need to be absolutely sure.

The vial is in Zack’s hand when he climbs the steps down into the basement of the Shinra Mansion, where Sephiroth has been hiding away while the number of symptoms and signs increases steadily. Inside his head he’s been ticking them off the list, more and more desperate with each one, the uneasy feeling in his guts growing as he comes closer and closer to what he’s been told the worst case scenario is. Sephiroth tells him to leave, exhausted and upset and sleepdeprived, and Zack ticks another symptom off the list.

 

It’s Cloud he gives it to, pushing it into his hand and explaining as fast as he can what needs to be done, hoping his friend will be able to do what Zack can’t anymore. The worst case scenario is here, and no matter how hard Zack may try no amount of persuasion will bring Sephiroth back. It’s time to end it.

Cloud’s footsteps on the steel floor plates are loud enough to be audible by enhanced Soldier hearing, but Sephiroth doesn’t turn around when he enters the room, and ignores the cadet as he carefully balances on the tube leading up to the specimen tank this chamber was built for. He doesn’t turn around until Cloud grabs a handful of his hair and drives the needle end of the vial into his neck as hard as he can.

He rips it back out as soon as the swirling clear liquid has drained, jumping back and out of reach as Sephiroth spins around reeling, grabbing for his attacker. Their eyes meet for a second, interrupted when Sephiroth lets out a high-pitched, bloodcurdling scream and throws himself forward, missing Cloud by just a fraction as the cadet turns and runs for it. He doesn’t stop until he’s back in the room with the pods, where he pulls Zack to his feet and drags him towards the exit, only stopping to pick up Tifa as well. He doesn’t answer when Zack asks what happened, just shakes his head and looks away so his friend doesn’t see him cry.

Outside they find Zangan waiting for them, who takes Tifa into his arms and opens his mouth to ask questions before immediately closing it again when Zack shoots him a warning glare. Now is not the time. ShinRa will be here soon, and they need to be gone before that.

 

It’s Hojo who first steps into the room containing Jenova, and Hojo whose foot bumps against the empty little glass vial lying forgotten on the floor. It’s him who picks it up and recognizes it for what it is. It’s him who stares up into the Calamity’s burning eye and feels her anger seeping through every fiber of his being.

 _Ifalna created the contents of this vial_ , says the note Gast left behind, _Inject them into his body if he ever comes under Jenova’s control. It will free him._

It was always clear what this would mean, but somehow a small part of Hojo never believed it would work. Part of him clung to the notion that his son was strong enough to survive _anything_. And what were a few ounces of liquid against the most powerful Soldier in the world?

 

He throws the little bottle against a wall when he finally returns to his lab, but of course the bulletproof glass doesn’t break and only bounces to the floor with a loud clanking sound. It rolls under a table and out of his sight. Hojo rubs his temples.

In the back of his mind he can still feel Jenova’s cold fury, the fleeting images of what she will do to the one who killed her most valuable puppet. There’s no sign of anything even resembling grief, he realizes. Only anger, and he’s too tired for that right now. He has a child to mourn and a catastrophe to cover up, and a report to write about the worst case scenario.

And a letter to write to his dead colleague’s daughter, who is probably wondering what the ripple going through the Lifestream meant. She may refuse to return to ShinRa, but as the last surviving Cetra she still needs to know. Jenova won’t stay dormant forever, after all. And she also needs to know that this was her parents' doing.

 

The legacy of Gast Faremis was freedom inside a vial.


End file.
